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<title>And all the world is changed... by I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22733701">And all the world is changed...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own/pseuds/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own'>I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Suilad Aran Thranduil [46]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Evil Author Day, Gloin and Thran friendship is also still my jam, I still really love me some Dain and Thranduil friendship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:20:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22733701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own/pseuds/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>People change for two main reasons: either their minds have been opened, or their hearts have been broken. ~Steven Aitchison</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Suilad Aran Thranduil [46]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/65456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And all the world is changed...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The time passes, from one breath to the next. Time passes, life goes on. Breathe in. Breathe out. Everything’s changed.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>“But who will be king now, ada?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t think there will be another king, Thranduil.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But why, ada?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It doesn’t matter. Come, we’re leaving.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where are we going?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know.”</em>
</p><hr/><p>Time means so little, but touches so much. Nothing is ever left undamaged by Time’s embrace. Breathe in. Breathe out. Everything’s changed.</p><hr/><p><em>“If you’re king now, ada, does that make me a </em>prince?”</p><p>
  <em>“It does indeed, Tithen Tuil.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wow, ada! That’s so cool! And nana is a queen?! Like Aunty Melian was?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, little one.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But-“</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It doesn’t work like that, Tuil Nin.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But why, ada?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Because nana is sleeping. You remember that, don’t you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Nana is sleeping forever?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And that means she can’t be queen?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s right.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That makes no sense, ada.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know, little one. But that’s the way things are.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hmph.”</em>
</p><hr/><p>Life is precious and dangerous and ever changing, no matter how still it seems to be. Breathe in. Breathe out. Everything’s changed.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>“The king is dead. Long live the king.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You cannot deny the crown, Thranduil.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t want it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There is no one to take it in your stead.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Find someone else.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We are at war, Thranduil. There is no one else.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t want it, Galion.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then you will make a great king.”</em>
</p><hr/><p>Breathe in. Breathe out. Everything’s changed.</p><hr/><p>“Let us not make the mistakes of our ancestors, King Dain. So much of this could have been avoided if we had put aside the old hatreds.” His voice trembles even as he says the words, even as he tries to conceal it.</p><p>“How difficult was that for you to say?” Dain asks, looking sideways at him, he flinches.</p><p>“There are no words to describe.”</p><p>“I thought not. I’m not a stranger to the <em>true</em> tale of Doriath.” Thranduil forces himself to breathe through the memories that spring up in his mind at the name.</p><p>‘<em>Nana is sleeping forever?’</em></p><p>
  <em>‘Yes.’ </em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Why?’</em>
</p><p>“The gems are not the Nauglamir.” Dain says, Thranduil grimaces, turns to look at him.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Then, why?” Dain questions, frown marring his face.</p><p>“They belonged to my mother.” Thranduil answers, his voice breaking slightly, his mother is ever a soft spot for him, and he's realized and accepted by now that she always will be. “A wedding gift from King Thingol and Queen Melian.”</p><p>“How did Thror come by them?” Dain exclaims, eyes wide.</p><p>“I wanted a necklace made of them. It was to be the Bride Price for whomever my son chose to marry.” Thranduil sighs, and shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Those grievances are of the past now. We must learn from them if we are to make a better future.”</p><p>“Right. And to be perfectly honest with you, I could use all the help I can get right now.” Dain admits, with a sigh of his own. “Erebor is a mess.”</p><p>“Yes, Dale also. If you are amenable, I would propose a three way alliance, between Erebor, Dale, and Mirkwood. We can prosper as we once did, however, this time as equals.”</p><p>“I’d be a fool to decline.”</p>
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